


From Where I Stand

by WOL_INDIA



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Guilty Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Post-Episode: s05e22 Swan Song, Sam in Hell, Survivor Guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 12:30:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6116518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WOL_INDIA/pseuds/WOL_INDIA
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is work was created as a part of the Hunter Chronicles contest.</p>
    </blockquote>





	From Where I Stand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [poop_face](https://archiveofourown.org/users/poop_face/gifts).



> This is work was created as a part of the Hunter Chronicles contest.

 

 

He felt the warm caress across his cheek, the kind he was used to for years. All that had changed was the size of the hands that had gone from podgy, little fingers to strong, calloused paws that firmly cupped his cheek making his face feel small. A hint of a tiny smile creeped at the end of his lips remembering Sammy doing that every night Dean had come back from a hunt, barely escaped, and passed out on the dirty bed of whichever seedy motel they were staying at. It was Sam’s way of reassuring both of them that it was ok, and they were safe, and they still had each other. All of a sudden, the hands get yanked off of his face and he jerks up on the bed as another hand rubs soothing circles on his back. Lisa. He remembers as he buries his face in his hands and vigorously rubs at the tears that he didn't know were there.

“Everything ok, Dean?” he hears her ask.

“Yeah, nightmare,” he mumbles as he sinks back into the bed, turns on his side, and drifts back into the comatose state he had come to know as sleep. Arms wrapped around Lisa, face pressed into the curve of her neck, and holding on for dear life, he takes a deep breath. When did the man who fought and killed everyone’s nightmares on a daily basis start to need cuddling to get over a bad day at work?

*****

A few hours later, he woke up to the whiff of bacon swirling around the room. He sat up on the bed and stared out of the window. He still couldn’t believe this was his life now. It was normal and monotonous, and just the way he knew he had subconsciously always wanted. Sam was the brave one who could say it out loud, though. And now he was gone, probably stuck in Hell with... “Deeaann,” Lisa’s voice came from the kitchen, “are you up yet? Ben is getting late for school. Again.”

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and went to the window. Parting the half closed curtains, he scoped the area in one go, hunter training never goes, even if the life is gone. Seemed like a peaceful suburbian sight. He went to get ready, all the while unable to shake off the insecure feeling. it couldn’t have been. Sam, he got that, it was his brother and he missed him. But Lucifer? Why did he think he saw Lucifer staring at him through the window? He thought about all the possible reasons why he had been hallucinating about Sam, Lucifer, and even Michael at times. None of them bringing any calmness to his nerves. Halfway into the thought that maybe it was Sam's telekinetic call for help, Lisa called again, reminding him of his newly acquired domestic duties.

His mind still argued about it. Sam had done it before, right? When he had telepathically told Dean his location that one time. Maybe he should call a few people up, see what they can do. He almost reached out for his phone, Bobby still on his speed dial, but stopped, his hand frozen in mid air. The promise. He was going to live a normal life and not go searching for Sam. “Umm.. Dean, are you alright?” The voice startled him. He turned around and stared at her, his green eyes glimmering and so lost. She walked up to him and held him tight against her.

“You’ve been asking that a lot these days, y’know? Dean tried to huff a laugh which just came out as a sigh.

She hummed noncommitently, her chin resting on the top of his head. “What do you say, we take Ben out to the park today? Throw a ball around, have a little family picnic.”

“Yea,” he nodded, just a little.

Ben and Lisa were good. They had been really good to him. He had expected them to kick his sorry ass out on the curb after the first set of panic attacks he had in the middle of the night and all the weeping after the nightmares. He still dreamt about Hell. A lot, these days. Not the same that he had been in, the one in his nightmares was scarier. There wasn't any carving or shelves or knives. There were no souls. It was just a suspended iron enclosure, surrounded by fire, screams, and a heavy scent of sulphur. Occasionally, he would hear the snickers of someone, accompanied by groans and screams that could have been Sam’s, but so much more painful. Dean couldn’t get himself to be surprised at the capacity of his mind to create literal Hell for him.

*****

“Did you find it?” he heard the kid’s voice over the thumping of his heart. “Sorry, didn’t mean to throw it so fa- Dean? Dean?! Mom!”

He wanted to turn around, shout and tell Ben and Lisa to go far away from him. And why were they still staring at him ignoring the iron bars that trapped them in the park?

He pawed at Lisa and Ben as they held him tight by his arms, making noises to ask them to move away from the bars. They didn’t seem to get it. Instead Lisa reached out and touched it. Running her fingers over the cage wall.

“See, it’s just a fence,” she whispered in his ear. Then, wrapping her fingers around his wrist, nudged him towards the ‘fence’. “It's a little cold, but it's harmless, Dean. Touch it.”

Taking a deep breath, Dean flexed his fingers and reached out. Just as his hand touched the metal, it burnt, the smell of burnt flesh crawled up his nose and down his throat as he screamed. Lisa and Ben still didn't look like they knew what was happening. He looked down at his hand, skin burnt and lacking a layer. He held up his hand to show it to Lisa, who just scrunched up her face saying she didn't see anything. She was saying something but he couldn't hear her clearly. Her voice was coming from a distance and was rapidly fading away, just like she was, and Ben, and the park. Everything except the iron bars. He turned around to see three figures in the dark, moving closer to him. Djinns. It struck him. He tried moving backwards. He needed to get out of whatever this fake reality they had captured him in.

“Hey! Back off! I mean it” he tried his beat to scream. But they moved closer. Clearer now. Oh god! Why couldn't they have been Djinns! The first man to walk up to him looked stressed, as if he was trying to concentrate on something very hard, the second one was downright esctatic while the third just looked as if he would breakdown any second.

“Say Mikey, your lousy mojo sure serves as great entertainment in this shithole,” the second one snickered. Then turning to the third one, “right, Sammy?” Sam just whimpered.

Before Dean could make sense of what was happening, or call out to Sam, Michael touched his forehead with two fingers. As white light took over him, he heard Micheal whisper, “sorry, Dean, but it’s too big a risk to take.”

 

*****

“Hey! Hey! Dean? Shh.. It’s ok. I’m here,” Lisa’s voice brought him back to consciousness.

“That’s the problem,” he murmured.

Now he could feel her arm around her shoulder, the other hand square on his chest. “What? What is the problem? Dean, you can talk to me. I’m here,” she hushed.

“You are here.” His eyes still unfocused, laid on hers.

“Yes, I’m here, and it’s going to be alright.”

“No. No, the problem is that you are here. And Sam is not. He is there. Hell! I don’t even know if he is there! Or alive! And you are here. And Ben. I was there. It was a dream. Or a hallucination, I don’t know! But I was there, Lisa, and it was horrible.”

He could see the hurt creeping into her eyes, but he couldn't help the words falling out of his mouth. She gulped once. “But you're not there, it was a bad dream. We are fine.”

“You don't get the point! WE are not there, WE are fine. Sam is not. And I can't do anything about it. Us being fine doesn't matter, Sam is in pain.”

Lisa opened her mouth to say something, but shut her jaws with a snap, and got out of bed. “I'm getting some water for myself, you want anything?” she said in a monotone, carefully concealing all emotion from her voice. She shut the door behind her, not waiting for his answer.

“Shit,” Dean flopped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, subconsciously picturing Lisa on the ceiling, what must it have been like for Sam? Twice. He turned over to the side and closed his eyes. He had to do something about that mind of his. He sighed, then drifted off to sleep as he heard Lisa come in and climb under the covers.

*****

Lisa carried the food out to the dining table, and he followed in behind her with the wine and the glasses. This had become his life now. Play dates and couple dinners. He huffed a laugh as he set down the glasses and looked up at Lisa working with the silverware. She continued her work, eyebrows scrunched and shoulders tensed. He had fucked up big time last night. He regretted saying it, but not feeling it. It was true. And she knew it too, which made her even madder at him.

She had been nothing if not supportive to him, known that getting a brand new, well settled Dean was just wishful thinking. She had a vague idea as to what Dean had been through, of what he had seen and done. She never poked the bear, still tried her best to do what was good for Dean. Every time she walked in on him grooming his car or cleaning his guns, she had wrapped her arms around his waist and asked him if he wanted to go to Bobby’s and help him out. And every time he would nod his head no, Lisa would let go off her breath and blink back the tears that were threatening to fall off.

The dinner went peacefully, both of them relaxed and smiling after a really long time. The only glitch that came in was when Peter had slapped his hand on Dean’s arm and playfully complained to Lisa that Dean had the sense of humour of a five year old and would often complain about smelling sulphur in the office. At which Dean and Lisa had locked eyes across the table and had the same silent fight again while Anna and Peter argued over the difference of smells of ammonia and sulphur. Then, Anna had a juicy gossip about the new lady from the cul-de-sac and it was all forgotten.. For the moment. This was getting harder by the minute for the both of them. And Dean still heard the snickering from somewhere between the walls.

*****

The next few days had been uneventful, except for the noises, the sulphur smell, and the visions, which he had obsessively ignored for the sake of his new life.

That night when Lisa got under the covers and turned onto her side, like she had since the night after the park incident, Dean did what he hadn’t. He turned over and moved closer to her and wrapped his arms around hers and he spooned her from the back and buried his face in her hair, inhaling deep, and smelling her shampoo, her, and at sulphur again. He consciously ignored it. It was a surprise he hadn’t gotten used to it.. Maybe things your head makes up and hard to get rid of, or used to.

He held on tighter as she moved a little under him. “Hey, I’m sorry,” he said, “I shouldn’t have.. But I’m trying, Lisa, you know I am. It’s just very hard to differentiate reality from hallucinations right now.”

“Hmm..,” she turned to face him, “that’s ok, we’re all trying to figure out this situation. You’re allowed a few screw ups. It’s not like they have books on our condition or advice on Google for coping mechanisms for PTSD caused due to the end of the world.”

He saw her smile in the dark. He was anything but a righteous man for treating this woman badly. He bent forward a little and kissed her. Tentative at first, then making it deeper as her hand rested on his cheek, angling their faces for better access.

“I don’t deserve all this, Lisa. I don’t deserve you.” He said, when they came up for breath.

She looked at him straight in the eye. “Finally realize that you’re too good for me, huh?”

“That’s not what I-”

“I know what you meant, idiot. And I also know that it’s not true. So can you please stop thinking it and fuck me already?” She crashed her face into his, before he had a chance to react.

Smug with Dean’s reaction, she pushed him onto the bed, tangling her hand into his hair, as she straddled his hips. He gripped her ass and pressed her down on him. She started moving, grinding against Dean while he moved right back, trying to get into the familiar rhythm.

Still going on with the rhythm, Lisa slid her hands under the hem of Dean’s t-shirt and pushed it across his body and over his head.Dean followed her, dropping the t-shirt to the ground and turned them over so that he was on top, entrapping her between his arms. He went down to kiss her again, while they both worked on each other’s pants. Soon the pants were off, and hands ran all over. Lisa’s hand wandered around over his back, shoulders, down his chest, tweaking at his nipples, tracing the treasure trail down to his dick which was already hot and hard and leaking against her hip. He keened, burying his face in the crook of his neck, he left hot, wet kisses all over her collar bone and the dip of her neck. She stroked him slow at first, then increasing her speed with every tug; flicking her thumb across his head and dragging the precum and spreading it across his length. He ran his hands down her sides, hooking his fingers in her panties, and sliding them off of her. As soon as they hit the floor, Lisa turned them both over and positioned herself over Dean and slowly slid down on him. She was so hot, so tight around him. He keened and his back arched of the bed, eyes closed, head thrown back. She ran tender fingers over his torso as they got used to the feeling. Then slowly then started moving, falling into their routine rhythm very easily, hands gripped tight where they entangled with each other. They kept going faster and faster, till Lisa buried her face in Dean’s chest and stiffled a scream and came. Her flexing and quivering around Dean is all it took for Dean to follow her.

As they lay beside each other, catching their breaths, going through the aftershocks, he thought about how good this was. Physical, natural, simple. She turned towards him and snuggled into him as he wrapped his arms around her and felt her breath calm while she drifted into her dream world. He kissed the top of her head and opened his eyes, and froze.

Lucifer was staring at him from the door, holding a board with the number 6.5 written in red. “It was ok,” he said, “my boy, Sammy, here, is waaayy better than your Lisa chick.” He smirked as he stared right into Dean’s eyes.  “Shut up, Lucifer,” he heard Michael’s voice, “..and there you go!” With that Dean was gone, deep into sleep, for more nightmares.

He found it very unsettling that he hadn’t seen Sam this time.

*****

He sat at the kitchen table. Coffee steaming hot in the cup, while the pen in his hand rapped continuously against the notepad. Head fallen between his arms, he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to concentrate with every ounce of memory brain he had. He figured, the only way to put a rest to the nightmares and hallucinations was to accept whatever had happened. Which is when it hit him, he didn’t remember most of it very well. The events got pretty blurry at the Stull Cemetery. He remembered Sam getting control over Lucifer, and opening the Cage, and... That’s about it.

He thinks about asking Bobby, takes out his phone and stares at it for a while, the screen showing Bobby’s number. He shuts it off, drops the pen and phone and entangles his fingers, joining his hands. He breathes in a long, deep breath, closes his eyes , and prays. “Castiel! Umm.. Hey Cas, it’s me. I know you probably might be dead, or busy, or something. But I need your help, man. This normal life is getting a little hard for me, and not in the ‘taxes are hard’ or ‘my salary is not sufficient’ kind of way. I... uhh.. I don’t think I’m fine. Getting over Sam is hard. Not worrying about him is downright impossible. I was going to call Bobby, but I bet even he is having a hard time. Don’t wanna bother him anymore. So I was wondering if you could come down here and just tell me about what happened at the Cemetery that day, that would be great. All I remember is opening of the Cage and uhm.. Sam going in and then directly here, living the apple pie life with Ben and Lisa. So... Yea.. Whenever, man. Please.” He looked around. No sign of creepily dropping in angel. He pushes himself off the chair and carries his cup to the sink. Cas will come, he’s sure.

*****

“Bobby.”

Bobby jumps off his feet, dropping his bowl of chilli in the sink. “Holy shit! Ever heard of a knock, boy?” He turns around to face the blue eyed angel.

“But I didn’t come in the door. Aren’t knocks customary if you come in through the door?”

“Nevermind,” Bobby runs a hand over his tired face, “what brought you here? Must be important. Because now that.. Well, there wouldn’t be a reason for you to just drop in for a visit.”

“Yes, I came here for help with an anamoly. Dean had told me you are helpful when in trouble.”

“I try. Shoot.”

“A few days ago, I heard Dean praying to me asking about that day at the Stull Cemetery. He said that he was living with Lisa and Ben Brandaen and wanted me to drop by because he had been facing difficulties ‘coping with the loss of Sam’. He’s not there, Bobby.”

Dean? Prayed to you? Where from? And how? Isn’t he..”

“Yes. I thought it to be peculiar as well. So I went over to Lisa’s house and watched over them for a few days. Except for the faint memories in their minds, there seems to be no sign of him.”

“This is weird. I look into some lore, call a few people up, see what I can find.”

“I’ll inform you about any changes or updates.”

*****

Sam has never been able to get off the feeling that this is his fault. It is because of him that Dean is suffering, that Dean has to carry the non existent guilt of ruining a family. He was the one to make Dean promise to go stay with Lisa. He wanted Dean to live what has been his wish. Also, angels were a great big bag of dicks.

He thought of all the ways this could have been better.The first day they were here, if only he had a handle over his emotions. Dean was unconscious, not reacting to anything. He just wanted his brother alive. If he had known any better, he would have never done it. Never trust an angel, it was a lesson to live by. Michael had touched his forehead, collecting all his memories. Then doing the same with Dean’s lifeless body. Then he had placed the tips of his fingers on either side of Dean’s face and his eyes had turned white. The bright light coming out of Dean’s face was harsh, but not harsh enough for Sam to look away. Sam had stared and stared at his face for hours, waiting for him to wake up. Finally, Lucifer had walked over from his dark corner of the Cage and pulled Sam away.

“Oh Sammy, Sammy, Sammy.. I'll let you in on a secret, before you fade away of staring at a comatose body.” He pulled Sam close, and whispered in his ear, “he’s not waking up.”

“I’m sorry, Sam. But this is the way it has to be.  He is too weak to be surviving on his own. The shock was too hard.”

“And whose fault was that?!” Sam screamed at him.

“Oh yea sure.. That’s the reason he’s dreaming of a different world. C’mon Mikey, you know you’re not supposed to lie. What with being God’s good little bitches and what not.”

“What is he talking about?”

“Excuse me, it’s rude to ignore a person who has information. Talk to me, Sam. I bet we have at least something in common.”

“Stop blabbering, Lucifer. Don’t listen to him, Sam. This is for safety.”

“Of course, it is for safety,” Lucifer walked along the sides of the Cage. “But the question is, whose safety? Dean’s or ours? Or more specifically of my brother here?”

“What?” Sam looked perplexed.

“See, your brother, Dean, is one feisty little fella! Give him a drop of fuel and he'll burn down the world. And Mike here, is, well, an oil mine. If Dean knows what he did, then.. Whoooo!! Fireworks!”

“Wake my brother up. Now, Michael.” Sam went up to him, trapping him against the wall. “I want my brother. Alive. And conscious. Now.”

“I could do that, at the touch of a finger I can, but then there’s no way he’s breathing for more that a day or two. Should I?” he stood higher as Sam cowered in front of him.

“That is true, Sammy. Now that that’s sorted, let’s move on to more important matters. Since, big brother Mikey will have to keep a watch on Dean and stay with him, how about we share a bunk?” He smirked his most evil smirk as tears rolled down Sam’s face. He needed Dean. More than ever, now.

*****

“De,” he heard again. The way Sam had called him for a long time. But the voice was different. It was grown up Sam's voice. This only happened when he was in deep shit and needed rescuing by Dean. He jerked up and looked around. There was no way Sam could have been here. He was in.. with Lucifer.

He heard it again, a screaming whisper full of desperation and pain. He turned towards the TV and stared at it, frozen in place. Sam was on TV, blinking and glitching with the static. “Sam,” he whispered back, eyes already brimming.

He looked around to look for Lisa and the kid. They were no where to be seen, maybe they had gone out shopping or something. It was normal, lately, he had been losing a lot of hours somehow.

“Hey Dean,” Sam caught back his attention, “I need you to w-” he stopped mid sentence staring deep into Dean’s soul. “Are you happy here? With this life?”

Dean looked at his brother, as weird as this was, he didn’t was Sam to hold the guilt of having pushed into a life that made him miserable. “I love it, Sammy, he smiled, “ Lisa is great and very supportive, and Ben is growing up so fast! I hope he stops before you did, don’t want another gigantic kid outgrowing me.”

Sam held his breath, counted till ten, he was happy. Maybe Michael was doing the right thing. Clearly, whatever Dean was living was way better than the Cage right? But tgen again, maybe, just maybe.. “Dean, are you ok? You look a little tired. You sure this is good for you?”

Dean stood up straight, and gave Sam the biggest and the fakest smile he could, “yea man, it’s still a little hard, y’know, dealing with whatever went down. I’m still getting nightmares and haha, this..” He pointed at Sam on the TV, “hallucinations.” Dean scrunched up his nose and sat crossed legged in front of the TV. “You’re hallucination!Sam, I can tell you the truth, and not hurt the real you!”

Sam looked confused. Dean could still hear the arguing voices of Michael and Lucifer, like he had all day. This was his chance to finally be able to speak his mind.

“Sam, I don’t fit in here. Our life of hunting has left scars on me that don’t just stop at physical. I know you wanted this for me because you liked it, but I grew up as a hunter, man, and I think I’m better off if I that way. It’s not Lisa or Ben, they are great, they are so much more than I deserve and this life is great, but I’d rather be almost dying with you everyday than living a long, happy life with them.” He finished with tears in his eyes.

Sam was mirroring his emotions. He wiped at his face, nodded to himself, and talked with emphasis on every syllable, like talking to a child. “Dean, I need you to listen to me very carefully, and do what I say. Wake up, Dean. Can you do that for me? Can you wake up?”

This was when Dean saw Michael walk in from behind Sam and reach out to touch Dean's forehead with two fingers. “Now that's your punishment for being rogue, Sam.” And everything went blurry.

*****

“Dean, what are you-” he looked up to see Ben and Lisa at the door frame, both petrified, staring at him.

He got up from where he was sitting in front of the TV, and walked up to them. They moved slightly back as he reached closer.

“So that's what you think? Is that what you feel like? I have worked with everything you threw at me, Dean, but I don't think I can with this.” There were tears. Ben saw all of this, walked up to Dean and hugged him. “I'll miss you, you were the best dad I had.” And leaves the room.

“Lisa, it's not like that..” he tries. Then stopping for a breath. “I think this is a dream, I feel like I am dreaming. Like I am with Sam really, and all of THIS is the hallucination.”

“Because you are alive and happy? Figures.” She turned around and walked into the kitchen.

“What? No! That is ridiculuous!” he followed her.

“You were right, y’know, what you felt when you first came here, it was on point! I was too stupid to not see it. You were right that you walk into people’s happy lives, screw them up, and then walk away to do that to someone else. You should have never come here. You should have rot on the streets because that would probably help you repent for all the lives you ruined. There is a reason your brother is suffering with the Devil and an absolute angel. There is a reason Bobby won’t answer your calls anymore. There is a reason your own angel didn’t come when you called for help. And all of those reasons are you.”

Dean stared in her direction, but far, far away. He really was a pest. She was right, he should have- “Hold up! I never told you about Cas, I never told anyone about Cas, how do you know?” He walked up close to her, and he would hvae misses it if he had blinked, that she glitched. Lisa glitched.

He trapped her against the counter, bent forward, and grabbed the knife from the stand behind her. “If this is what I think it is, then I’ll wake up with Sam, and if not, then well, there is no point living like this, is there?” He smiled, warm, and real, and dark.

He raised his hand and pushed the knife right through his guts. As he fell to the ground, and everything faded away, he waited. For light or for dark. He honestly didn’t know which one he wanted. Any of them would be better than this though, right?

*****

“Morning, sunshine,” he heard as he came back to consciousness. He was aching, but he didn’t know where.

“Dean! Hey, Dean!” He flung open his eyes and sat up straight.

“Sam? Are you ok?” Before he could even get his eyes used to the dark.

“Yea, you?” He heard the relief in Sam’s voice.

“Well, well, well, isn’t this a happy little family reunion! So many emotions, drama, tears! Could be an award winning lifetime movie moment!” Sam stiffened in Dean’s arms.

“Not now, Lucifer,” Sam ground out from between his teeth.

“Oh, Sammy boy, now is now is now. Because this perfect moment has a plot twist! Along with the family reunion, we also have.. Drumroll please.. A meatsuit reunion!” He clapped maniacally and swooped his hands to show a cowering figure, crouching in the corner. Michael.

Looking at Dean’s confused face, Lucifer did more showman gestures. “You see, our good little angel here, Daddy’s pride of being the sincere one, did something very, very bad. It was very brave, if you ask me. I mean, you break the rules, that’s one thing, alright, but breaking them by force possesing the scariest man on Earth! Phhooo!! That’s bravery wrapped in stupidity, sprinkled with sure death, right there.”

He could see the rage rising in Dean's face. As he tried to get up and go towards Michael, he stopped him. “Easy there, tiger. I know you come from Hillbilly Land, but you should still know, it's rude to interrupt a performance. Now let me complete my story.”

He made Dean sit back down beside Sam, and got up, cleared his throat, and continued. “Let's go to the flashback. Location: Stull Cemetery. Mood: well, shitty. And Sam has taken control of me.. (That was so hot, Sam) And Michael, riding Andy? Andre? That illegitimate guy was about to be pulled with me, when Michael, the great athlete that he is, jumped bodies! And of all the bodies in the world, he went for Dean. I mean, figures! Who would let go of such a pretty thing! Pulled him in, realized what a huuggee mistake he had made and conked him off into Suburbian Dreamland. Ooh, and to make it even better, he convinced my eye candy, Sam, here, that it was necessary for you to be a comatose, hallucinating freak, just so that he could save his hide. By the way, it’s long overdue, I need to congratulate you on your woman. She was whoooo!! She was something, alright!”

Dean got up now, and paced towards Michael, Sam going after him. Lucifer pulled Sam back, “now, Sammy, when we watch a movie, we don’t interfere. And this is a very interesting documentary. We all know the end of the fight between a mud monkey whose weapon is flinging poop, and the ultimate archangel with an arsenal of weapons lethal enough to burn down the world.” He held Sam back.

All of a sudden, the entire Cage shook, and loud noises of flapping wings were heard. Everyone stopped in their tracks and looked around. “ Unless..” Lucifer dragged. “There is a plot twist that works! Sammy, get ready to meet your brother’s angel 2.0. More fierce, more lethal, and anger you do not want to face.”

 


End file.
